


Indulgence

by Sarita1046



Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bondage, Cunnilingus, Depression, Dissociation, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Headcanon, Homophobic Language, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, Pillow Talk, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Drama, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarita1046/pseuds/Sarita1046
Summary: Set around season 4 onward: When Gae leaves, Devon returns, and Stewart backpedals. When he overdoes it late one night, Katy dismays at being saddled with the addict once again - until she soon realizes things have only just begun.
Relationships: Devon/Stewart (implied), Katy/Stewart (Letterkenny), Roald/Stewart (Letterkenny)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This story includes some grittier themes not deeply explored in the series, such as the darker side of drug addiction and familial abuse - just with the Letterkenny crew.

“You wanna talk about it, honey?” Gail asked the last patron left in Modean’s that night.

Stewart stared at his third, untouched mug of beer, stomach churning. Instead of perking him up, the first two helpings had only mixed with his latest hit of meth in a cesspool of nausea and misery.

Clearing his throat to keep down the contents of his gut, he managed, “Thanks, I’m good.”

Uncharacteristically pitiful response. He had officially peaked in life.

“Don’t usually see you guys getting your kicks off this stuff,” Gail mused, wiping down the counter around Stewart with a dishtowel. 

Stewart gnawed his lower lip before deciding against spilling about the embarrassing and clumsy encounter he’d just had with Devon following Gae’s departure. 

“What’s got you down, pretty?” Gail’s voice registered through the queasy stupor. 

_Pretty_. That’s what Devon had called him while he rubbed himself against Stewart’s clothed thigh until climax down in the basement. Devon’s climax, anyway. Stewart couldn't quite get there since Devon’s return from his unexplained absence. “Too pretty for some spoiled city girl or that hick bitch…”

When Stewart had refused Devon's attempt at a hand job to finish things up, Devon had kicked him out of his own place yet again. Apparently, they were all - or perhaps just Devon - sick of Stewart’s griping over Gae. Anyway, it wasn't as if Devon had ever expressed a desire for monogamy, not to mention he'd left out of the blue and without a word, only to reappear just as suddenly, whining about how Stewart was a control freak...

Stewart’s stomach chose that moment to lose it. With barely enough time to turn away from the bar and Gail, he spewed sour liquid all over the floor.

“Man!” Gail exclaimed, tossing the dishtowel at him. “Does my flirting disgust people that much?”

As she stormed off, Stewart grasped the towel and braced against the counter to heave himself off the barstool. Stooping to his knees, he took a deep breath and began wiping at the mess on the floorboards. 

It was a cruel metaphor for his life. First Katy, though he had to admit he’d fucked that one up on his own. If the hicks got one thing right, it was not to stoop to the female stereotype of the cold shoulder or playing hard to get. All high and mighty with their direct communication. Sadly, it seemed to actually work out better for them in many ways. If only things with Katy were as simple as him and Devon - fuck before the spat grew too serious. Because they’d rather be on the same wavelength than be at odds. Them against the world. He admired that about Gae, too – she had practically worshipped the skid way of life rather than ridicule it like most others. Though in retrospect, it was likely more about rebelling for her than…

His thoughts gave way to blackness, as the ground came up to meet him. 

Katy awoke to a deep thrum from her bedside table. Her damn phone. Willing away the harsh memory upon waking of the argument she’d had with Wayne last night about her “behavior” in bringing home random men, she answered the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Katy? This is Gail…”

“Gail, do you have any idea what time it is?” Katy asked, running a hand through her hair and sitting up in the dark. “What’s going on?”

“One of your boys passed out here down at the bar. He made a mess. Think you can get Wayne to move him?”

“One of my boys?” Katy stated, exasperated. The whole town thought she was a slut – she understood, _enough already_.

“The goth,” Gail said. “You wanna come get him or should I try dragging him and just leave him outside the clinic?”

Rolling her eyes, she headed downstairs to grab the truck keys. She decided that, if nothing else, she could show Wayne she was capable of helping out a male without letting him bone her.

As soon as she entered Modean’s, she knew she was about to regret this something fierce. Still, as she knelt down beside Stewart’s barely stirring form, she couldn’t help but soften her resolve. He actually looked… _calm_. Pale with red-rimmed eyes, as ever, but…not chattering a mile a minute.

“Can you move?” she shook him with one hand, careful to avoid the rancid towel beside his shoulder.

“Mhm,” Stewart replied, and surprisingly opened his eyes. 

Blue eyes. Damn, those got her every time. If she was honest, they always had.

“Gail called about your gong down here,” Katy said, pulling him to his feet. "Pitter patter, I'll get you back."

"I've been kicked out again..."

"Man, you get thrown out of your own place a lot," Katy stated the obvious. 

He ignored that, not feeling the energy for a retort, she supposed. 

After tossing a joint in Gail’s direction when the bartender began to protest about payment, Stewart grasped Katy’s hand.

“Thank you…”

“Hands off,” Katy said, as she went around to get in the driver’s seat of the truck, glad that he jerked back before she had to shrug him away.

“Right,” he murmured before joining her in the car.

The road home was silent – until that first sniffle. 

While she hadn’t the faintest idea why she even bothered turning her head to glance at him, she sure wasn’t prepared to see the tears already streaming down his cheeks. Well, at least he was trying to be quiet about it.

No sooner had she looked, that Stewart’s shoulders started to quake. Just as Katy went to protest about him crying, she soon realized he wasn’t sobbing so much as trembling.

As soon as he began hyperventilating, she suddenly started to feel as inwardly freaked out as when she’d taken in Daryl for that rabies business.

“What’s wrong, Stewart?” she asked, tone coming out less annoyed than she had intended.

“I…I can’t…it’s hard to…I can’t breathe,” he finally managed.

“Get sorted,” she said, as they pulled up outside the house. “You’re freaking yourself out.”

“I’m so hot, it itches, I can’t stop itching,” he insisted, stepping down from the truck. “Please, Kat…”

His words gave way to a strangled cry that luckily faded to the rush of the hose as she sprayed him down.

Ignoring Stormy’s barks from around back, she deadpanned, “Pipe down now, the smell of puke was making me sick.”

Drawing deep breaths against the sudden cold, Stewart’s shakes finally seemed to ebb.

“Yes…I apologize for that.”

“Apologize?” Katy rounded on him after recoiling the hose. “Can’t you just say you’re sorry like a normal person? What is it with this nice guy talk?”

“I’m not a nice guy,” Stewart spoke the last words as if they burned his tongue. “I never insisted I could treat you better than those two jocks. In fact, I was minding my own damn business before you showed up…”

“Gail called me,” Katy shot back, turning for the house. “Be glad I didn’t let her toss your ass out on the street. Now get it in here and shower. I’m going back to bed.”

As luck would have it, Wayne seemed to either be sleeping like a log or figured it was Katy showering and wanted to avoid her after their spat the night prior.

Either way, moments after she heard the faucet turn off, Stewart poked his head into her bedroom. Joke was on her for leaving the door ajar.

"Your brother’s slimmer accomplice is sleeping in the guest room. Do you have any blankets I can use to hide under on the couch in case Wayne goes downstairs?”

“Damn it, Daryl,” Katy rolled her eyes for the second time that night, and tossed Stewart her extra pillow. “Just sleep on the floor.”

Stewart barely caught the pillow, as he gingerly stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. “It’s cold in here.”

“Thought you were complaining about being hot before,” Katy quipped, lying back down. “Those PJs are fine and the throw rug holds plenty of heat. Figure it out.”

It wasn’t until he passed by her window and the moonlight caught his hair that she realized the cropped appearance. “Where the hell’d your hair go?”

Not that she cared. He stayed silent, lying down on the pillow to the left of her bed. Even from her peripheral view, she could tell Kingsley’s discarded pijamas hung on Stewart like a sac.

That was when a thought struck her. “It’s been a wig all this time, huh?”

Another stretch of silence. “I can't get my natural hair to grow down, it's too curly. Don’t tell anyone?”

“Whatever, man,” she replied, closing her eyes.

She swore her eyes had been closed all but ten seconds before another sniffle reached her ears.

“Look, if you’re just gonna…”

“I can’t sleep,” he stage whispered.

“This ain’t a slumber party,” she bit back. “I _can_ kick you out…”

“God, all you ever do is judge,” Stewart interjected, continuing despite the break in his voice. "All anyone ever does is judge. We all indulge in a little distraction now and then. You’re telling me you don’t?”

Katy set her jaw at the memory of her fight with Wayne. How he went and knocked up a woman, yet had the audacity to accuse _her_ of being reckless with sex.

“What else are we supposed to do in this place?” he trailed off. "I'm too dyslexic to make it in college, even my mother finally accepted that and hightailed out of here."

"Could have fooled me with how you kill the spelling bee every year," Katy mused.

"That's just knowing how to spell a word. If you're reading during the contest, you're probably cheating."

That seemed fair.

...How'd you get into drugs?" Katy chanced, after a beat. "Friends?"

"My mom used to say Ritalin would keep her boyfriend off my back, make me smarter. Turns out meth felt better. Roald fell into it after his spat with family, and...Devon just sort of joined not long after."

Katy raised her eyebrows in the darkness. Honestly, she'd never felt the need for anything beyond the daily beer buzz.

“Could get away to the city sometime.” The words tumbled out before Katy realized what she was saying.

She heard the rustle of Stewart’s head on the pillow as he turned to face her in the shadows. “You’d leave?”

“Was planning on it…but with mom and dad gone after the accident, I couldn’t leave Wayne all alone…”

Damn, why was she spilling her guts now?

“You’re not his keeper,” Stewart said, and she saved her breath in arguing on that one. “What is it _you_ want, Katy?”

She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, trying and failing to contain the tears that welled forth. She really hadn’t come to terms with that quibble with her brother. If she didn’t have Wayne to confide in, she didn’t really know what to do with herself out here in this life she’d resigned herself to.

“I…” Katy began and trailed off when her voice cracked, turning to face the window across the room. Her hand dangled over the edge of the bed in the cool air of the room.

To her relief, Stewart spared her an overly intellectual-sounding quip at her hesitation. 

After another pregnant pause, he ventured, “The snide remarks, the confident gait, going blond…that’s never what drew me to you. It’s the same wall I use with my hair, makeup, whatever. But you standing up to Tanis when she was talking shit about me? _That_ was real.”

“We’re all human, I guess,” said Katy, not really knowing why she felt the need to speak. “A little slip-up is okay once in a while. Just…not hurling everywhere and passing out.”

Stewart cleared his throat again, possibly against more tears. Or maybe she was assuming based off her own habit of swallowing to control her emotions. “May I?”

She felt his cool fingers grasp hers and didn’t resist.

“I guess it was kinda cool you at least trying to quit for me,” Katy allowed, after a deep breath.

“I can help distract you, in the meantime,” Stewart said, chancing a gentle stroke of his thumb over her palm.

“Like I said before,” Katy began, failing to ignore the subtle tingle that crept up her thighs in response to his touch. “Dating didn’t seem like a good…”

“I promise,” Stewart’s fingers slipped softly from hers, as he moved around to the foot of the bed. “I won’t try to shove my tongue in your mouth. I’ll stay on the floor. You can join me over here or not. Your choice.”

Well, shit. She certainly didn’t hate the way his voice had dropped about an octave, tone taking a husky, almost gravelly turn typically reserved for his latest crazy for-profit scheme.

“I…I want to be a veterinarian,” she managed in response to his earlier question, already scooting to the end of the bed, eyes shut so she didn’t have to completely accept what her body already had. That burning need. 

Her toes had barely reached the far edge of the mattress, when warm hands grasped her ankles. Swallowing a gasp, she exhaled sharply at the sensation of her panties being removed from under the duvet. 

Wouldn't be shoving his tongue in her _mouth_ , indeed...

Her cool breath soothed the hot tears coursing down her own cheeks. Hell if this wasn’t her own weakness. Maybe more dangerous than any single hit of meth could hope to be.

All thoughts trailed off to feather-light kisses trailing upward from shin to knee to inner thigh, until…

The moment something moist and languid prodded at her center, she had to clasp a hand over her own mouth to stifle the cry. Damn, but it had been a while. Though she'd given it to McMurray's wife in the washroom on St. Patty's, the lady had been a touch too hammered to return the favor. Even Reilly and Jonesey, gone on her as they liked to act, never took to this.

Katy’s other hand fisted the sheets beneath her, as that – yes, it was a tongue – began a lazy spiral tour of her opening, waiting about fifteen seconds before settling at a faster yet still steady pace.

Keeping her hand over her mouth and her eyes screwed shut, she found she could finally just allow herself to focus on the sensations – not pleasing a partner so he wouldn’t try and juggle her with other chicks, but just…enjoying. Somehow, she wasn't even directly considering the conversation Wayne and the guys had concerning Stewart's--

Her breath caught, as he picked up the pace. Still, she was surprised he hadn’t made a peep since it all started. Good on him. A proper distraction could do without dramatic monologues, emo tirades…

When those lips closed around her clit, she actually did keen into her palm. Surely, he must have heard it. Those hands only gripped harder, tongue darting out rhythmically as he sucked with just the right amount of fervor to avoid overstimulation.

The last of her resolve breaking, Katy’s hands flew downward to tangle in his natural dark waves. She thought she detected a tremor and faint gasp from him, though the blanket muffled the sound. Following the briefest of pauses, the delicious torture resumed at an almost frenzied pace. Finally allowing a low moan to escape herself, she abandoned all reservation to the fire erupting in her belly.

As soon as her climax hit and those sweet waves washed over her entire body, all conscious thought shattered to the frenzied gyration of her hips as she rode the face of the last person she ever would have expected to bring her the most satisfying orgasm of her life.

What seemed like hours passed before she felt a swift, gentle nip to her left inner thigh. Of course he would.

Silence, as that mouth and those hands slowly departed. Well, then.

“How’d you go from weird kissing to… _that_?” Katy finally asked, and she hoped it wouldn’t go to his head. “Did that girl Gae…”

“Nothing at all to do with her,” came the reply. “It might come as a surprise, but I use the Internet for more than just gaming. It’s also quite useful for research.”

Why did the thought of his probable innocence suddenly make her want to go for another round?

Drawing deep breaths to steady her heart rate, she didn’t even dare move to pull her panties back on. Idly, she registered Stewart lay down beside her once again on the floor in the dark.

“You…” she began again, frustrated at the need to reciprocate that she couldn’t quite shake. “You need anything?”

“I got all I needed from that, thanks,” he replied, and it almost sounded as though he were referring to a hit of drugs. ”Though I might need a change of attire in the morning.”

A pleaser, too. And damn if that faux-intellectual talk didn’t have an entirely different effect on her all of a sudden.

“Say you made it out of here,” Katy began again after a stretch, and hoped she hadn’t woken him. “What would you do? Music?”

“Music,” Stewart murmured, “and, if I was better at reading…nursing.”

“You’d be a nurse?” Katy said, finding his whole drug situation ironic.

“It’s nice to help people in a crisis, I guess,” Stewart decided. “Pharmacology and the relevance to human nature - all that. It keeps the mind occupied.”

Katy sighed, suddenly in the mood for a smoke. “Nursing just might be a good look on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Letterkenny story, thoughts and feedback welcome!
> 
> *gong=Disaster


	2. Chapter 2

The following sunrise had barely peeked through Katy’s bedroom window when Stewart shot up and dashed to the garbage can by the door.

No sooner had his eyes registered the bright morning light that his stomach revolted once again, expelling whatever bile was left from the night before.

“Quiet down now.” 

He tried to mask the convulsions at the sound of Katy’s hesitant tone behind him. “The boys’ll come checking in.”

Face flushing, Stewart drew a deep breath and turned away from his crouching position by the bin to face Katy. “I apol…I’m sorry.”

“What’s the problem?” she asked, not unkindly.

“It’s been about 24 hours since…” he trailed off.

Realization dawned on her face. “Withdrawal. You gonna go home, then? Will they even let you have more?”

“Don’t know,” Stewart mumbled, sitting back against the wall. “Devon texted and says he wants me to come back to talk.”

Katy glanced down momentarily before fixing her eyes on his face. “Look, last night...”

“Don’t worry,” Stewart interjected, “I won’t mention it to anyone. Never happened.”

"I was gonna say,” she continued, with more bite, “that it was…easy. I like that.”

Before he could stop himself, that glimmer of hope had definitely reached his eyes before he could look away from her. Damn it.

He resisted the urge to fiddle with the black band on his left wrist, deciding against speaking until she started up again.

“Listen…you got off on it too, right? If we can make a thing of it, just between us…will you stay away from the meth?”

Stewart could scarcely believe what he was hearing. “How often?”

Way to push the envelope, but his heart was already thumping painfully.

“How’s every other night?” Katy asked. “We could go out to the barn or back field whenever we can’t sneak past Wayne.”

Dizziness struck him once again and this time, not only from the withdrawal. 

“…Okay.”

“Get a move on now,” she stood from the bed, tying back her hair. “I’ll distract Darry and my brother while you leave out the back.”

With another deep breath to calm his stomach, he carefully made his way out of the farmhouse for the long, rather serene walk home. While the fresh air helped soothe his tremors somewhat, he knew he was in for some serious strife later that day, should he actually attempt to avoid another hit.

Truthfully, he wasn’t up for another confrontation with Devon or anyone else - just some peaceful time spent with a Sartre audiobook would suffice. 

Birds flew overhead, their sweet song promising spring despite the brisk morning air. He pulled his black jacket tighter around himself, determined to ignore the stiff fabric of the underwear between his legs.

He had to admit…the fact that he was still able to please Katy despite losing it himself in the midst of everything seemed a downright miracle.

A vibration from his pocket cut off his train of thought. Phone at five percent, he saw another text from Devon.

_Stewart, can we please talk? I’ve sent the guys on a vape run in Native territory, they’ll be gone awhile._

Rolling his eyes, Stewart shoved his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. Of course Devon would send the guys back onto those nuts’ turf…

Trying the doorknob to the basement, he found it unlocked.

“They’ll be gone a while,” Devon assured him, as Stewart observed his friend sitting on the decrepit couch against the wall. “It’s good to see you.”

Stewart shut the door behind him, idly noticing Devon's uncharacteristic lack of eyeliner. After considering whether to take the couch opposite the wall, he finally took a seat at the far end of the couch where Devon sat.

Staring straight ahead, he asked, “So…you’ve returned. Had enough Murakami by yourself…”

“I’m not back to take over the group,” Devon cut in, and Stewart finally glanced sideways at him. “I never even asked you to leave. Yelling didn’t mean I was trying to kick you out. I was just tired of hearing you rant about that city girl.”

“Then, why are you here?” Stewart pressed, hoping Devon wouldn’t ask after his belongings that Stewart had long since destroyed in a fit of betrayed rage. “Surely, you don’t expect me to take a backseat to…”

“Stewart, I’m sick.”

The words hung in the stuffy basement air.

“Yes,” Stewart continued once the silence grew too long, “withdrawals can be unpleasant…”

“Hep B,” Devon followed up, and Stewart froze.

“You contracted this during your time away?”

“I don’t know when, but it was before I left,” Devon shook his head. “The belly pain was getting really bad, so I got checked out.”

Why had Stewart had the feeling it wasn’t just a nervous stomach? Knowing it wasn’t proper etiquette, Stewart’s anxiety got the better of him. “You got it from someone else.”

“I’m thinking it was actually from a needle on a run to Toronto with Connor,” Devon said. “You can calm down, I’m not blaming you. Unless this is your subtle way of saying you expected monogamy.”

Stewart pushed the creeping thought of Katy out of his mind, the memory of the blood oath swap with Roald and Gae. "I told you never to risk that shit--"

“I freaked out at first and ran. Sorry for that...anyway, I just thought you should know, in case…you want to get checked out too.”

Stewart ran a hand through his somehow mostly undamaged faux tresses, ultimately deciding to just pull them off. It was only Devon, after all. 

Devon’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Nice to see you au natural again.”

“Is that why…is that why you finished clothed the other night?” Stewart finally asked.

Devon nodded. “I felt bad after Tanis noticed your jeans that last time, but yes.”

“Well, thank you for letting me know,” Stewart decided on, already sick to death of constantly being on the edge of tears lately. “Please feel free to stay as long as you like. I won’t be kicking…”

“I’m headed out again today,” Devon said. “Far away.”

Stewart shifted from one foot to the other. “Leaving again? Why?”

Another pause ensued before Devon spoke up again. “Because the treatment isn’t a cure. If I don’t leave, I wont be able to force myself to stay the fuck away from you. And that could literally mean life or death.”

Stewart felt the blood drain from his face seconds before the anguished tears filled his eyes. He swallowed convulsively. “Devon…it’s been you, Roald and me since first grade…”

“It has to be this way,” Devon stood up, as Stewart tried to move closer. “I can’t risk it.”

The leaden sensation had already infiltrated Stewart’s limbs, as his best friend rose from the sofa.

“Please, Devon...” Stewart’s voice broke, and he couldn’t care less.

Rising from the couch, he grasped Devon’s hand before his friend could make it to the door to the stairs.

A beat – before Devon whirled around, his hands finding Stewart’s waist, leaning down to rest their foreheads together.

“Tell Roald bye for me. He’d take this too hard, I don’t want him to watch me leave. Look out for him for me - everyone should have his kind of courage to be honest about who they are.”

Clearing his throat against the growing lump, Stewart nodded. Closing his eyes, he felt Devon’s warmth slip away from his face and torso.

Quiet footfalls preceded the creak of the stairwell door gently closing.

When Stewart opened his eyes, he thought the emptiness might swallow him whole.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Implied childhood sexual abuse
> 
> Musical inspiration: "A Deep Voice" by Myuu

Choring proved to be as ordinary as any other day – complete with the stiff approach from Wayne.

“Katy, look,” he began, taking a break from changing out the hay in the barn as she loaded up fresh produce for the stand. “Look, Katy.”

Right on cue with that verbal tick. She just glanced up, prompting him to continue.

“What I meant last night about bringing in strangers. I wasn’t passing judgment about the frequency or such…I was just worried about keeping our belonging’s safe, is all.”

“Anything worth stealin’ is locked in the safe, you know that,” she turned to load a massive bright orange squash onto the stand behind her. “I’d never let anything happen to the valuables.”

A pause.

“Katy…are ya doin’ all right?”

For some reason, Katy instinctively cleared her throat. “Sure. Everything’s good. Spring’s comin’, produce should look better soon.”

“I’s got more right here!” A watermelon the size of her torso plopped down on the wooden surface before her, almost startling her until she realized it was just Dan come from around the back.

“Well, then,” Wayne spoke for her, “Where’d ya happen to find one of those this time of year?”

“Miss Tricia from Women’s Studies says if you plants them at just the right time in summer, they’ll come out sure beauties.”

Katie chuckled, impressed. “Y’all learn a lot about melons in that class of yours?”

“Well,” said Dan, popping a beer and taking a seat, “I’d says what’s stuck with me most is that it’s less about lookin’ at the melons and more about treating things right elsewhere.”

About to take a swig from her own bottle, Katy nearly choked. Were all the dudes in Letterkenny taking notes these days?

“Say Katy, all good there now?” Wayne must have seen her face blanch.

Katy just nodded. “Nice work, Dan. This’ll be sure to get a few more folks comin’ around the stand.”

This stoop. This fucking stoop.

Never had he found himself on the stairs of this clinic for anything beyond eye drops. This morning, his crystal clear vision fixed on the clinic receptionist as she moved past him up the stairs.

He clenched his fists to quell the rising panic before the roaring in his ears could bring on another meltdown. Striding over the front desk, he drew a breath.

The receptionist – Kim – spoke first. 

“Bright and early as always, I see. What can I do for you? More drops?”

“I…” Stewart fiddled with the right sleeve cuff of his black jacket. “I’d like to have a test.”

“STI check?” she asked, already clacking away at the keyboard. 

Biting his lower lip, he replied in a voice he wished weren’t so shaky. “Yes. And…Hepatitis B. “

Her dark eyes roamed up to his face before professionally returning to the monitor before her. “HIV, too? May as well do the whole panel, eh?”

The nervous laugh came out more as a squeak before he could stop himself. …”Yes, please.”

Luckily, the test orders filed quickly and he managed the rapid and urine tests without passing out from a hammering pulse.

The entire walk back to that stupid basement, all he could hope was that he hadn’t ruined the lives of anyone he cared about.

“Stewart…” Roald.

As soon as Stewart saw his friend look up from the book he was reading, he shut the door to the stairs behind him.

“Hey, Roald,” Stewart’s voice sounded dreary to his own ears. “Connor and Darien?”

“They went home to sleep,” said Roald. “I figured I’d come back and crash too.”

Stewart nodded before deciding to just get this over with. Maybe Roald squealing would at least get his mind off of the tests – even if he was about to bring up the most closely related topic possible.

“Roald, Devon’s left us.”

Roald’s shocked expression didn’t pain Stewart as much as he’d expected, but then again, he’d been anticipating it.

“….No! What?! For what? Where?”

“To be with some relatives, he says,” Stewart wasn’t yet ready to come out with the truth.

A beat passed, before a grin actually broke out on Roald’s face. “Is it…is it bad if I don’t really mind? Like, it sucks he won’t be in town anymore but I don’t hate that he won’t be living here with us anymore.”

Stewart frowned. “Why?”

“I…” 

Roald glanced down, as Stewart’s peripheral vision detected a flash of movement.

Turning his head to glance out the window, his stomach somersaulted – he swore he’d just seen Gae’s face out there, all mauve lipstick and mischievous eyes. One blink had seen her grinning visage vanish.

“Hey there, you okay?” Roald’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Yes,” Stewart said, turning back to his friend once more, “you have my full attention.”

“Well…I was just going to say I like how we can hang out more. I really like spending time with the gaming, reading, preparing…our stuff.”

Stewart wanted to snicker at how Roald always danced around the fact that they cooked meth. “I would hope so, we’re friends.”

“Yeah, but…Stewart, I really enjoy it just being us. I suck at this, I’m sorry.”

Frigid realization settled at the pit of Stewart’s gut. He couldn’t do this after this whole Devon situation…and Katy. Even if Roald had been the one to convince him that his mother's idiot boyfriend Jay wasn't the reason for Stewart initially suggesting he and Roald experiment back in high school...

“Acknowledged,” Stewart settled on the only reply he could muster, willing away the rising heat he felt at Roald’s dark gaze boring into him. “While I’m flattered, I hope you’ll understand that Gae’s departure is still fresh, and I…”

“Right,” Roald chuckled, almost nervously, “Gae. By the way, did Devon ever meet her?”

“No,” Stewart frowned again, “why do you ask?”

Roald shrugged, reaching out to take Stewart’s hand. “Friends. For anything you need.”

That night, Stewart awoke on the futon to darkness outside the basement window and Roald asleep on the floor. Where had the time gone? 

At a flash from his lock screen, he realized he must have awoken to the buzz of an email notification. The test results.

By the time his brain had registered the final NEGATIVE, sleep claimed him once again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Homophobia and implied past abuse
> 
> Musical inspiration: "Chemical Burn" by The Dust Brothers

“Forgotten about me already?”

Stewart jolted awake in the dark to the sound of that loud whisper. Glancing around and squinting to make out anything amidst the shadows of the basement, he drew a deep breath to quell a wave of vertigo.

Just as he made out the form of Roald sleeping beside him about a foot away on the narrow cot, he registered another shape over his friend’s shoulder.

Sure as the afternoon when she had told off Tanis, Gae sat staring at him from that same chair, pallor illuminated in the glow from the desktop monitor by the door.

Thankful that he had managed not to shriek or do something else idiotic out of shock, Stewart made sure to compose himself. “How did you get in here? And Roald must have crawled up here when…”

This time, she didn’t answer. Then, it hit him.

“Of course, damn withdrawal dreams,” Stewart went to lie down again.

“I didn’t mean your boy toy, Stewart,” continued that disturbingly lucid voice. “I was talking about that farm girl. You really want someone whose family will only ridicule who you are…?”

“Going back to sleep now,” Stewart spoke over her, hoping he wasn’t actually talking in his sleep. 

Waking just in time to hack over the side of the bed in a fit of dizziness, Stewart jolted awake to see sunlight actually streaming through the window.

“”Hey, hey, you okay, Stert?” Roald asked, using that nickname even at the most uncomfortable of times.

Stewart found he hadn’t the heart or the energy at the moment to refuse his friend’s hand on his back.

“Just…just getting used to some things.”

“I can wean off it too,” Roald said. “We can make it a team effort.”

Just in time for the guilt to settle in his chest, Stewart’s gut tightened anew at the possibility that Katy might not change her mind and still decide she wanted him over tonight. 

“I appreciate the offer, but…”

“Why are you stopping, anyway?” Roald ventured.

That gave Stewart pause. “I…want to be more clear-headed for the actual dealing.”

After a moment’s pause, Roald gave a brief nod before a click alerted them both to the door to the stairs. 

Despite another surge of queasiness enhanced by the prospect of who could be on the other side, Stewart sat all the way up. Beside him, Roald stood from the cot.

It wasn’t until the door opened to reveal his mother’s boyfriend Jay that Stewart realized why the room felt so empty. Darien and Connor must never have made it back last night – and his crew had never felt smaller.

Jay’s average build and moussed dirty blond hair wouldn’t likely constitute an intimidating physique – until one noticed the tattoo sleeves covering his forearms, contrasting with whatever colored dress shirt he’d chosen on a given day. Typically alternating shades of green and pink. 

Black fucking dominated.

“Jay,” Stewart heard his own voice strain to conceal the tremor of both withdrawal jitters and this unexpected visit. 

“It smells like a pig shit in here.”

“Did you need something?” Roald actually succeeded in not squeaking through the entirety of that sentence, and Stewart loved him a little for it.

“Your mother asked me to check on things.” 

That grating tone frayed his nerves.

“She couldn’t come?” Stewart asked, keeping his voice level, forcing his gaze to stay on Jay’s face.

“She’s tired of seeing you trash her place,” Jay said, walking over to examine the cooking station. “Seriously with this? It's tax season, and--”

“We take jobs in the city…” Roald piped up again.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Jay started to raise his voice, and Stewart’s jaw clenched. “Stewart, your mother and I have looked the other way for years with this fag bullshit. But making a drug-infested cesspool out of your family home isn’t the answer.”

"Stewart has a girlfriend--" Roald began before Stewart interjected.

“It was never your home,” Stewart growled before he could stop himself. Within seconds, the fire started in his limbs. 

Adrenaline. Perhaps the first in as long as he could remember that surged from fear rather than substances. 

“Resentment gets old, kid,” Jay closed the distance between them, faster than Roald could move to completely block the path to Stewart.

Not that Stewart wanted to be protected from Jay. Any more of that humiliation would send him back on a destructive path he was determined to avoid. No more wallowing to escape the past.

Keeping his gaze fixed upward on Jay, Stewart held his ground. No different than staring down Wayne - admittedly not the best first analogy.

Jay raised his fingers to stroke Stewart’s long hair, and Stewart felt his gaze fall. Still, the crawling of his skin didn’t push him to break his stance. Beside him, he could practically taste the tension emanating off of Roald who slowly reached into his own pocket.

“Still wearing this…” Jay’s voice trailed off, as Roald pulled out his cell phone. “No wonder no one’s ever taken you seriously.”

“I’ll call the cops…” Roald began.

“It’s my house, moron!” Jay rounded on Roald, and Stewart took that opportunity to advance on Jay, shoving him back toward the door.

“Get out _now_ ,” he seethed, eyes meeting Jay’s once more. “My mother received the bill receipt and that’s all she’d ever come here for or send you for.”

“You and your dramatic grudges,” Jay shook his head, turning the doorknob for the stairs. “She let you mooch off her place. Left her own home to make things _right_. You always did run your mouth off…”

“Calling the cops now,” Roald stated a bit too loudly, and Stewart may have chastised him if this were any other situation.

Muttering yet another gripe about “fags” under his breath, Jay left the basement, slamming the door behind him.

It wasn’t until the footsteps had faded up the stairs that Roald spoke.

“Checking the bills?”

“Just one of his periodic check-ins,” Stewart said, swiping the back of his hand across his face before the angry tears could escape. “There’s never any real reason why it’s him and not her.”

The rest of the day passed quietly in comparison. Relaxation to Trance music coupled with Camus audiobooks and discussions while Roald actually managed to convince him to dabble in watercolor art…until eventually they dozed off on the floor.

When Stewart’s phone buzzed, he managed to swipe through the lock screen before the noise could rouse Roald. 

**Katie 10:27PM**

**Hey there. Feel like a tumble?**

He replied, **Yes.**

Anything to put the sensation of those fingers out of mind. The memory had struck him like a splash of cold water to the face and already the shroud of dread and despair had begun encroaching from the back of his mind. That it hadn’t been his real hair hardly provided any consolation. Flashbacks too vivid to—fuck, the he hadn’t craved a fix this badly in a long time.

**I’ll be waiting by the barn, the side facing the woods. Text me when you park, I’ll keep the dogs quiet.**

Sneaking out was quiet and thankfully quick work. The thrum of guilt over leaving Roald alone in the basement faded to the crisp air outside, as he walked to his car. He just couldn’t be here right now.

Stomach somersaulting from both nerves and leftover adrenaline from earlier, Stewart did release a yell when something flitted across the dark country road in front of him.

Tires screeching as he slammed on the brakes, his eyes locked with the clown mask as the figure disappeared into the tree line to the right side of the road.

Kicking the car back into gear, he knew he left skid marks as he hightailed it the rest of the way to the farmhouse.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personal headcanons: Katy and Wayne are former Mennonites; Stewart’s mother is Evangelical Christian, and his biological father was Jewish.
> 
> Musical inspiration: "A Girl Like You" by Edwyn Collins

“Quiet down now!” Katy quipped at Stormy and the puppies that had decided to prance around at the sound of the approaching car.

Drawing a deep breath, she walked through the narrow path lit by the headlights to signal her presence before retreating around the corner to wait by the door.

Tossing a stick to distract Stormy and co. from the sound of the car door shutting, Katy drew her lower lip between her teeth. 

“Hi, Katy.”

His silhouette stood outlined against the porch lights.

“Hey you, get over here. Stormy, get on back to the field, girl!”

With a short bark, the shepherd scampered away. 

Sighing in relief, Katy glanced back to Stewart who still hadn’t moved. “You okay?”

Finally, he nodded, stepping close enough that she could see his face. Before she really knew what she was doing, her fingers reached out to stroke his face.

“You look better…”

She fell silent, as his hand met hers, intertwining their fingers together and gently but furtively moving her hand away from his face. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Stewart…talk to me. What’s got into you?”

“Can we go inside? The barn, I mean?” Stewart asked, and she didn’t think she’d ever heard him sound so hesitant. 

Or monotone. No wig tonight either.

Once following him inside, she barely had time to close the door before warm arms embraced her from behind. Hot breath caressed her neck, as he spoke into her ear. “I…I want to feel you.”

His lips found her throat, moving around to her collarbone as he shifted to stand in front of her. 

As soon as his hardness brushed against her thigh, she found the focus to speak, “I mean…I don’t have condoms on me…”

“Unnecessary,” he stated, and she wanted to shove him away at that statement, until he dropped to his knees. 

Well, at least she’d kept on her skirt despite the cool night air. 

“Wow,” she managed, already breathless from the heat accumulating around them among the bales of hay, “you really weren’t expectin’…”

“ _Please_ , just let me fuck you…”

That sent a shock straight to her core, as she managed to shimmy out of her panties. Still, while his eyes had appeared normal in the dark, she couldn’t help but worry his strange behavior might be a sign of using again. 

Her stream of thought broke to the sensation of a tongue lapping at her vulva like she had a damn desert oasis between her legs.

When his hands guided hers to his natural hair, she sighed, gripping tight. His moan echoed through the barn so loud she wondered in the back of her mind if the dogs might come investigating.

The combination of his tongue finding her clit at the exact same moment that moan ended in a delicious vibrating hum sent her hurtling into a violent release so sudden it caught her off guard.

The sensation of his cool fingers gripping her thighs eased up, as he removed one of his hands. The soft chink of a belt unbuckling filled the musty shadows, as that tongue found her center one more. 

Thankful that he avoided her sensitive clit for the time being, Katy let her head fall back against the wooden wall at the languid strokes that resumed their torture of the lips surrounding her opening. 

His pants speeding up amidst a quiet rustling below alerted her that he was probably multitasking…and the resulting short breaths against her swollen clit had another orgasm fast approaching. 

Grasping his thick hair once more, Katy barely suppressed a keening cry as that tongue delved into her other opening.

“ _Holy shit._ ” She heard her own voice ring out in the dark space.

As soon as she bucked her hips, Stewart’s tongue gave a sudden flick at the apex of her thighs. Katy barely had time to register what felt like the softest brush of a finger against her taint before the sensations overwhelmed her. 

Joining in on his chorus of moans as her second climax washed over her, Katy failed to quell the guttural wail that escaped at the hot stream that splashed across half of her bare left foot and ankle.

Heavy breaths in the dark gradually waned, as Katy slumped against the wall beside her friend. 

“Did I…I’m sorry if I didn’t manage the best aim.”

Katy snorted, erupting into a manic giggle before she could stop herself. “Better cum than piss. You like going down, huh?”

Her ears picked up the clink of metal, as he refastened his belt and shifted to sidle up against her shoulder. “I...think I really like it when you take charge. A woman in control is a truly beautiful thing.”

Her stomach fluttered at the memory of that moan elicited from pulling his hair. Well, then.

“About earlier,” she began again, “were you okay?”

Another stretch of silence passed before he spoke again. “My mother’s boyfriend came to visit the house today.”

“You…you don’t like him, right?” Katy tried to recall. 

That nervous chuckle rang out in the darkness. 

“Was…was that why you were always over at Devon’s in high school?”

“Something like that,” Stewart said, voice uncharacteristically level. “Though his grandmother was quite the religious fanatic. Never approved of the music or apparel. That’s where we first learned the term ‘heathen’. It was quite enjoyable making it our own...I recall you from those days too, you know. The beautiful girl from the farm.”

At the second mention of the word 'beautiful', Katy wondered if there might be something to his preference for women holding the power. Not to mention his dictatorial tendencies toward his own crew.

Before the rational side of her brain decided to wake up, her curiosity got the better of her. “Your mom’s boyfriend...did he hurt you?”

Stewart cleared his throat noisily before she even finished the sentence. “…Is it that obvious?”

“What do you mean?” Katy frowned, fiddling with a strand of hay beside her right thigh. 

“The way I am…the drugs…the company.”

“You mean Devon?” Katy ventured, quick to clarify. “His obvious jealousy could have clued me into that. Look though, I’m really sorry if you were hurt…but it’s got nothing to do with…”

“I know,” Stewart cut in, “Roald already gave me this pep talk. My mom’s happy with the guy. At least she acts like she is. He’s Evangelical, same as her family. My father was Jewish, which never sat well with her parents so they told him to stay away. Or that’s what she tells me, anyway. Jay never married her though. And at least she never had any more kids with...”

He stopped then, as if suddenly realizing he was rambling. Her chest tightened with a creeping sympathy.

“Stewart, look, none of that is ever your fault.” Katy spoke into the ensuing silence. “And as far as how you are now, you’re born with it. Now, Pa never shied away from whoopin’ Wayne and me when we got out of hand, but that other kind of shit never went down. And I’ve liked girls as long as I can remember.”

She swore she could sense him grin in the dark. “Yes. I do recall you and Mrs. McMurray on St. Patty’s…”

“Now don’t start with that fetish business,” Katy nudged him with her shoulder, laughing softly, “I might have to start pervin’ on the thought of you and Devon.”

As soon as he tensed beside her, Katy fell silent. 

“Devon’s gone. For good.”

“Shame to hear,” was all she said, and to her relief, he dropped it.

That was when Katy realized now would be just a good a time as any. “Hey, so…I was thinkin’. You know how we talked about what we would do?”

“If we got out of Letterkenny?” 

“Yeah,” she continued, “nursing and veterinary school. Did you want to check out courses at the local college?”

Stewart scoffed too loudly, or maybe it just echoed off the barn walls. “Such as biology?”

“Sure, why not?” Katy mused.

“Katy, it’d take me over a month to finish a chapter in one of those textbooks.”

“They have all those textbooks online now,” Katy said. “You can use voice dictation. Apart from the Bible, Ma and Pa always rather us listened than actually read texts most of the time - struck them less as studying, I suppose.”

More silence.

“What if we studied together?”

“It would…” Stewart started. “I suppose it would be a nice change of pace.”

Katy nodded in the dark, pulling her panties back on.

“But if I agree to do this,” he said, “will you promise me to actually apply to veterinary school when the time comes? Even if I can’t make it through on my path?”

Katy pondered his somewhat cryptic wording before replying. “You got it.”

Another pause, before Stewart spoke up once again. “You gonna tell me to pitter patter on home?”

At that, she did scoff. “Pitter patter, get down here with me in the hay. Barn gets chilly as the night goes on.”

Stewart had barely settled against her back when Katy succumbed to the lull of sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Roald had barely been awake five minutes when Stewart came through the door. 

“Hey!" Roald greeted, a touch too loud. “Everything okay? Where were you?”

Stewart’s blue eyes darted toward him, before falling to the floor once more. “Not important. Roald – I’m thinking of going back to school.”

Roald pondered this. “Ummm, sure. For what? Music?”

Stewart scoffed. “Music isn't something you major in. I want to try the health sciences.”

“Psychology?” Roald hated the way his voice squeaked on the last syllable.

“Come on, what do you take me for?” Stewart sounded insulted, as he stalked over to the mini fridge for a drink. “Science. Maybe I’ll learn a thing or two to improve the mixing business. Ever given any thought to GHB?”

Roald frowned. “Sure. Like at clubs? Thinking of going to the city?”

“I just really don’t want to be here, and we can’t go to your place for…well, similar circumstances.”

Roald brightened, allowing that sliver of hope to persist if only for a moment. “It’s gonna be a warm one today. Want to get away to the watering hole before Darien and Connor get back?”

“Splendid idea,” Stewart said, setting down his can and headed again for the door to the stairs.

Following behind, Roald reminded him gently, “We’ll just have to steer clear of any of those shirt tuckers though. The swim area’s near the farm, and…”

“Don’t sweat it,” Stewart said, and Roald wanted to pause at the uncharacteristic language, “I know my way around.”

The drive to the watering hole was…mainly silent.

“So Roald…” Stewart spoke up, and Roald turned to his friend, squinting against the morning sun streaming in through the car window. “You’ve never been with a woman?”

“…Never wanted to be,” Roald settled on, swiftly unbuckling his seatbelt the moment Stewart parked the car. “You know that though.”

“Not sure you ever told me,” his friend continued, removing what Roald soon realized were all of his clothes. “Hurry up man, don’t lag.”

Shaking off the chill that permeated his neck despite the warm morning breeze, Roald removed his own clothes as they approached the water’s edge.

As soon as Stewart lowered himself into the water, he turned to face Roald. “I was with a woman…last night.”

Although he had prepared himself for the worst, Roald couldn’t help his stomach dropping. “Oh, really? Nice one, man. How was it?”

“Oh, you know…we had a good time. Fun way to a kill a night.”

“So…you’re over Gae?” Roald knew he risked everything by asking that question.

The expression on his friend’s face changed then, eyes taking on an almost silently manic gaze…before that grin broke out again. “Roald, you’re funny. You were always my favorite of Stewart’s boys.”

Holy shit. Yes, Roald was more often high as a kite than he was sober…as was the company he kept. But he hadn’t smoked this morning to see exactly what happened. If it was all still true. 

It was. His best friend – the person he’d loved since age ten – had lost it.

Roald drew a breath to mask the tremor as his friend’s arms encircled his bare shoulders. “Would you like to be with a woman? Experiment a little? No clown costumes or theatre masks, no drama. Just our secret. I won’t tell Stewart, if it’s weird.”

“Where is Stewart, anyway?” Roald heard his voice say, inwardly grateful he was able to pull this off. 

“We’ll be off to the city in no time,” came the reply, “Hey, you’re not feeling it, then?”

Roald swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than to destroy that motherfucker Jay for doing this to his best friend. For breaking him.

When those fingers began tracing lazy spirals over his shoulder blades, Roald mustered all of his willpower and carefully extracted himself from Stewart’s embrace. “Gae. Listen, I’m flattered. You’re beautiful. But I’m not into it. I’ve got to go.”

Sloshing out of the water faster than he had thought himself capable, Roald grabbed his top and pants and hightailed it across the adjoining field back to the road. Forget the long walk ahead of him. 

He would make the whole damn trek on foot.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Musical inspiration: “Scent of Night” by Myuu

The moment Katy’s ears picked up the sound of an unfamiliar voice from where she stood at the top of the stairs, she feared the worst.

Had Stewart actually gone to the front door? No, the voice wasn’t quite…

“We’ve got nothing to say to you,” came Wayne’s voice, “unless, ‘o course, yer offerin’ to clean out the barn.”

“Please, I really need to talk to Katy, it’s an emergency…”

 _Damn it_.

Taking the stairs two at a time and laundry basket still under her arm, Katy approached her brother and Roald at the front door. Wayne promptly left her to it.

“What’s the problem?” she asked, relieved that Roald either didn’t seem to know anything or had managed not to spill to her brother during their brief interaction.

“It’s Stewart. He…I think there’s something really wrong.”

Katy shifted from one foot to the other, setting down the basket.

“What makes you think I could help?”

Roald’s dark eyes managed to look more like a puppy than ever before. Not that she suspected he did it on purpose.

“He’s been clean for almost a week…and well, I think the withdrawal’s either hitting him really bad or something else has been going on for a while.”

Sighing, Katy shooed him out the front door, determined not to let the skid see the anxiety in her eyes. “Let’s get to the porch. Wayne and Darry don’t need distraction from their chores.”

“Listen,” Roald said, as soon as the front door shut, “I know our groups have never gotten along, but you’ve known us since third grade. He opens up to you and I don’t know any doctors, so I really don’t know who to talk to.”

“Doctors?” Katy frowned. “Is he sick?”

“It’s like a frickin’ movie, I swear,” said Roald, fiddling with his black nail polish and glancing out anxiously at the tree line across the field. “He…he’s seeing things and talking like he’s someone else.”

“Who?” Katy asked, a chill creeping along her spine at how relatively normal everything had seemed this morning when Stewart had left for home at the crack of dawn.

“Gae.”

“Gae?” Katy repeated. “The girl who had you guys dress up as clowns and then took down Tanis?”

“Christ,” Roald swiped a hand over his face, and Katy thought she heard his voice break. “Is that what he told you? Katy, that was all _Stewart_. The masks, Tanis…one day, he just started up with it all. Talking to himself…I can’t believe this is happening. This shit just doesn’t happen…”

Meanwhile, a part of Katy still wanted to believe this was some cruel joke…partially because the skids were skids and…because she didn’t want to have to consider how much of the Stewart she’d spent time bonding with this past week was actually the real him. 

If she had ever even really known the real him.

That was when the rushing sound began in her ears, followed closely by tunnel vision that made the bright green tree line before them start to swim.

Shaking her head, Katy spoke up, “Roald, look…I, I can’t do this. Not right now. You’re gonna have to leave.”

Practically sprinting down the steps to the front door, Katy forced herself to ignore Roald’s shrill pleas.

“Get lost, skid!” Darry’s voice reached her from the side of the house before she hurried inside and shut the front door.

Once inside, Katy dashed up the stairs before realizing she’d left the laundry basket by the door. Oh, well.

Shutting her eyes and letting the breeze from the open window caress her face, she drew deep breaths to calm her pounding heart.

What the hell ever happened to the simplicity of Reilly and Jonesy?

Fuck it. Angry tears poured from her eyes, and she couldn’t be bothered to wipe them away. She’d really thought she was reaching a friend…or at the least, a longtime acquaintance. She’d let Stewart in, and now it turned out he was some kind of psycho. 

The reality of the situation weighed on her shoulders, and she gripped the bedpost to keep from succumbing to the haze that threatened an impending faint.

It’d be the first she ever had.


	8. Chapter 8

Stewart remembered the night he woke in a cold sweat when staying at Devon’s during primary school. 

Eyes snapping open to a voice nearby, his thumping heart slowed only when his gaze settled on his best friend. He wasn’t at home – he could breathe easy.

The heavy relief that immediately followed soon turned to sympathy and concern, as he went to rouse his best friend from what appeared to be a nightmare. 

“Devon,” he murmured, shaking the other boy’s shoulder, “wake up, it’s just a dream.”

Devon’s blue eyes fluttered open and, to Stewart’s relief, he went silent. 

“Oh. Thanks. That seemed really real.”

“What’d you dream?” Stewart asked, suppressing the urge to glance around the shadowy room, decorated in Victorian designs after Devon’s grandmother’s preferences. Sure, it looked like a haunted house – but anything was better than home.

“I…there was a clown chasing me,” Devon whispered.

“Like the one from McDonald’s?” Stewart asked.

Devon shook his head. “This had a face like…you know those theatre masks the acting class has at school?”

“With the sad and happy faces?”

Devon nodded. “This one was sad.”

“I’ll hold onto your arm,” Stewart decided, lying back down. “If you start making noises again, I’ll elbow you.”

He still remembered Devon’s laugh.

He also remembered the first time their arm-holding routine became about more than preventing nightmares.

Usually one to distance himself physically, Stewart recalled surprise at how he didn’t panic when one night during senior year of high school – he rolled over onto his side, only to feel Devon sidle up against him from behind.

Still grasping his friend’s arm with his right hand, Stewart hoped Devon wouldn’t jerk away as he ever so gently grinded back into Devon’s embrace.

Other than the heat emanating from Devon’s body, no other movements came – until, after a few moments, Stewart gasped as his friend returned the gesture. It wasn’t until Stewart realized his own body’s response to the physical evidence of his friend’s growing arousal, that—

It took only several nights for all clothing to come off – and several more weeks of some of the most incredible and fulfilling sensations he’d ever experienced, for Devon’s grandmother to catch them both naked and entangled one morning.

While his grandmother thankfully cared about her own reputation enough to not risk the embarrassment of telling anyone, she understandably requested that Devon and Stewart move out. 

And back to the basement, it was. Only now, he had his best friend and they both soon recruited others to join. Roald in particular praised the lucky timing, as his own parents had just made clear their feelings about his coming out of the closet.

Stewart liked women - that much was obvious from stolen moments with playboy magazines. But he also liked Devon. The inquisitive nature foiled by the intensity in his stance whenever he challenged Stewart in an argument. The way those reading glasses of his added to the intellectual demeanor. _Fuck_...

Then, there were things that Devon had done for him that he wasn’t sure a girl could, at least not physically. Not naturally - a sentiment that Devon eventually admitted to sharing. As much as the interest in women kept family off their backs more than Roald could fake. And that, coupled with the support and company he’d received from his best friend for years, would not easily disappear.

Playboy aside – he no longer bothered trying to deny to himself anymore that he had even noticed Wayne before Katy. Hell, that one night outside the church when he thought the hick had been using Grindr, he’d barely held it together – being high had those disadvantages. It could be damn hard to control one’s impulses. Luckily, as always, Devon had come to the rescue, pulling Stewart away before he’d had a chance to get any closer to Wayne’s mouth.

He craved both masculine and feminine energy. But he was tired of seeing men abuse their power. From Wayne with the fighting to Jay, even to that idiot hockey coach Katy talked about her ex boyfriends dealing with.

Then, there was Roald. A great support system, even if Stewart couldn’t escape the constant guilt over the idea of replacing Devon in any way. Still, despite the odd tension simmering beneath the surface – almost like a secret he didn’t want to spill – Roald had taken swimmingly to exploration of the Dark Web. Especially since Katy had outright disappeared, only to suddenly reappear for his alleged “intervention” after humiliating him at the ridiculous spelling bee. Then again, so had Gae…and, as weaning off the Internet barely held a candle to meth withdrawal, rehab had been a breeze. At least losing the wig had proven alleviating so far.

A tap on his car window roused Stewart from his thoughts. 

Managing to not jump and just glance to the left to peer through the glass, he swallowed at the sight of Gae’s face in the window. Brown hair gone blond and dark lipstick retired for natural pink, she smiled down at him.

Somehow, he couldn’t help but think her new, lighter appearance matched the relief he felt over at least knowing what had become of Devon - as painful as the closure may have proven.

Once he’d rolled down the window, she spoke. “Go get your boy. We’re headed to the city.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Musical inspiration: “Songs the Night Sings” by The Dark Element

Roald’s elation over Stewart returning to the basement shattered as soon as his friend announced they were headed to the city. 

“Toronto?” Roald asked. “Where would we stay?”

“With Gae, obviously,” Stewart replied.

While Stewart went upstairs to the bathroom to freshen up, Roald took the opportunity to scope the drawers beneath the speakers. 

As expected, all of the drug proceeds that he’d seen stashed there only this morning were gone. When had the bastard had a chance to sneak in here without Roald noticing?

As it turned out, the upper floor penthouse that Stewart evidently blew all their money on probably took the cake for the fanciest loft Roald had ever seen. 

The GHB idea that came not long after was…admittedly also brilliant. In fact, Roald could potentially forget for a split second that he’d followed his best friend to meet a figment of his own imagination – if he only focused hard enough on how much cash they could rein in from girls looking to avoid assault.

But he had to focus _intensely_ to drown out the fact that Stewart hadn’t had all that rope and leather shit in his car for nothing.

Honestly, it was getting to the point that weighing the options between listening to his friend and crush engaging in what sounded like self-flagellation and begging Roald’s parents if they’d take him back almost seemed worth it.

“Roald!”

Roald jumped at the sound of the subtly higher pitch to Stewart’s voice.

“Yeah?” he finally managed. “Everything okay?”

Silence.

“Come in here.”

Glancing quietly toward the hallway that led to the front door and a potentially stealthy escape into the night – Roald headed to the bedroom with a sigh.

Brushing aside the curtain, he had to swallow at the sight of Stewart…well, at least he wasn’t entirely naked. Though he had red splotches on his right cheek and left shoulder. Light bruising decorated his abdomen, and Roald didn’t even want to think about anything harder than the paddle laying at the foot of the bed that could have caused it. Under any other circumstances, the mere thought of Stewart bonded and splayed out like this would have provided optimum alone time fodder. 

When Roald simply stared, Stewart spoke. “Didn’t you hear her?”

Heart pumping, Roald tried to guess how he could play along here.

 _Still time to bolt._ True to the moment he’d first urged Stewart to sample Darien’s meth after senior prom night, Roald knew better than to rely on himself to heed his gut instinct.

“What do you need?” Roald settled on, hoping the question could be interpreted as applying to any figments, as well.

The sound of shattering glass somewhere on the street attracted Roald’s attention from the open window. The moment he’d turned his head, that softer tone reached his ears again. 

“Finish him off, Roald.”

Whirling back to face Stewart alone on the bed, Roald barely managed to mask the shock on his face. Those blue eyes bore into his, as Stewart smirked.

“Gae gives you permission.”

Permission? What the actual fuck? No way he was losing a life-long friend to insanity, and certainly not in the form of an alleged girl – no matter how fake she was.

“I guess we should listen to Gae,” Roald murmured, striding toward the bed to straddle Stewart’s body. “But Strrt…Stewart. Can we get back to Letterkenny sometime soon?”

A glance to the left wall, before Stewart replied. “We can’t squat here forever.”

Right then. That would just have to do as far as some semblance of a sanity check.

Leaning over his friend, Roald’s eyes never left Stewart’s gaze, as he began inching down his body. The moment Stewart’s hips bucked, Roald suddenly noticed the rigidity of his own arousal.

Was this desperation at its peak? Jesus Christ.

When Roald’s lips ghosted over the black fabric of Stewart’s briefs, his friend gave a keening moan that Roald swore vibrated through both of them.

Well, as much as this would be only his second physical experience with a male outside of fantasy, he could at least be thankful he wasn’t the one living in a fantasy. Better option than looking into his father’s disappointed face.

Pulling down the briefs proved easier with Stewart tied down…and moaning.

Not to mention Stewart was already hard as a rock – which Roald idly recalled hadn’t appeared to be the case when he’d first pushed back the curtain. And, well…

It was even larger than he recalled from their isolated encounter in high school. Sworn to secrecy as Roald had been about the experimentation in light of Stewart and Devon’s involvement, Roald couldn’t help but smile now.

Yes, shit had perhaps irrevocably hit the fan. Hell, it’d hit the sky. But damn, if he wasn’t going to enjoy this. 

Gingerly grasping the waistband of those briefs, Roald moved the smooth fabric down over his friend’s hips. Alternating between glancing over at the far wall and closing his eyes, Stewart managed to still long enough to let Roald finish pulling down his underwear, cock springing up against his taut belly.

If the full-body convulsion was any indication, Roald’s initial tentative lick up the underside of Stewart’s shaft proved a safe starting point.

Keeping his eyes locked on that distracted blue gaze, Roald slid his lips over the head of Stewart’s length.

The moment Stewart’s hips rose to basically begin fucking his mouth, Roald struggled to stifle his gag reflex. Hands stroking up Stewart’s thighs, he wished his friend’s hands were free so he could feel them tangled in his own curls. 

In what couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds, Stewart’s keens and whines increased into shouts. Moments later, Roald’s tempo of rhythmic sucking cut off to the warm eruption spurting into the back of his throat.

Somehow managing to swallow most of the stuff without awkwardly sputtering, Roald sat back. Well, now he had his own arousal to deal with.

May as well take some chances. 

Moving up Stewart’s form once again, Roald locked gazes with those blue eyes. The moment he moved to crouch over those flushed red lips, Stewart spoke.

“You’re done. Leave.”

“Excuse me?” Roald said, not moving from his perch on Stewart’s chest. 

“Only Gae gets to…wait.” Stewart paused, then continued. “Well, that settles it. Untie me, Roald.”

Struggling to steady his trembling fingers, Roald managed to remove the restraints. No sooner had the last rope fallen that Roald fell back onto the bed, buried beneath a steadfast weight. Fuck – Stewart moved fast, and it was fucking hot.

“Gae approves?” Roald humored the man above him, unable to withhold the quirk of a smile. 

Whether Stewart actually referred to Devon, Roald wasn’t sure...but at this point, it hardly mattered. Whatever his friend needed to tell himself...

In response, Stewart wrenched down both Roald’s black jeans and briefs. In what seemed like another blur, he inserted two fingers into his own mouth. This time, it was Roald’s turn to let out a whine as Stewart withdrew his fingers with a light pop.

“Gae approves,” Stewart stated, moving to straddle the man before him. “She does prefer us sober, after all. Get the lube from the nightstand.”

After practically ripping off his own black tank, Roald made quick work of maneuvering to retrieve the small tube from the bedside table. Wasting no time in dragging three gel-smothered fingers over his opening, he didn't let Stewart leave his sight.

When Stewart leaned over Roald and two slender digits entered him, Roald couldn’t help but shout. _Fuck_ , he’d dreamed of this moment for…well, if he was honest, probably going on five years.

Those lidded blue eyes finally trained on his face, as Stewart worked Roald, massaging the smooth flesh of his inner walls. Resisting the urge to press his luck and just lean up to kiss Stewart may have been one of the hardest challenges he’d ever faced.

Already, a tingling had infiltrated his pelvis, promising impending release. The tingle gave way to emptiness, as Stewart pulled his hand away. Unable to suppress a whimper at the loss, Roald fell silent as Stewart rolled him onto his belly. Perhaps the gentlest his friend had been so far tonight.

The moment those fingers re-entered him from behind, Roald began gyrating against the mattress, burying his face in the pillow beneath him.

”Should keep your hair like this...” Roald murmured as he turned his face to the side, hips speeding up at the thought of how Stewart would look at the club later.

”Should put a leash on you,” came the reply straight into his ear, as soft fingers brushed the choker at his throat.

The heat of Stewart’s chest against his back made Roald want to melt.

Stewart had no sooner spoken, that a third finger slipped inside. With a quiet moan, Roald gripped his own rigid length against the mattress.

Just as he found the right amount of friction, a sharp sting followed by a dull ache filled Roald’s senses.

He hadn’t even felt Stewart withdraw his fingers to replace them with…fuck, Stewart was already thrusting, hot breath coursing over the shell of Roald's ear through his dark curls, tickling the cartilage ring there. With nothing to compare it to, Roald still had to imagine the dick inside him was… _sizeable_. Idly, he registered a slick hand cover his fingers currently wrapped around his length. Within seconds, all pain seamlessly ebbed into deep-seated pleasure.

For some reason, as Stewart's fingers clasped his own remaining fist that twisted the sheets beneath them, his mind chose that moment to recall his friend's words from Easter: “Never have I loved thee more.”

When Roald’s climax washed over him in a flood of liquid heat over his palm, the accompanying tears proved bittersweet bliss.

Amidst his euphoria, he asked, “You going to come again?”

The afterglow swam away to a jarring tug and Stewart’s familiar voice, as those warm hands left his, weight lifting from his back to rid him of a burden he hadn't realized he craved. “Time for rest, we’re mixing the GHB first thing tomorrow. That will be all, Roald.”


	10. Chapter 10

When Katy first took the call from a desperate Roald going on about a dealer beat down about to happen in the city, her first instinct was to hang up.

It wasn’t till after the inevitable fight at the club, that Katy locked eyes with Stewart…and the calm she saw there both unnerved and saddened her. Resolve that almost resembled serenity she’d never before seen in that usually wired blue gaze.

Sitting beside him later on, she couldn’t avoid the reality that something was amiss inside that head of his. As much as she’d wanted to dismiss Roald’s tear-stricken pleas on the phone, that responsibility she felt toward Stewart – perhaps beyond the life-long motto of helping out a friend in need – had won out yet again.

Tonight, she wasn’t quite sure where everyone at the table found the decency to act as if he wasn’t flat out muttering to no one about hating himself, face fixed in a downcast expression. But she thanked her luck when the boys retreated outside, so she could join.

Until she escaped to the washroom, only to bump into Roald on the way back inside.

“Katy,” he said, fidgeting less than usual, as he seemed to force himself to hold her eye contact. “Thanks…for coming. For helping us.”

“Sure, Roald,” she decided on casual. “A friend asks for help, you help him.”

“Is that all Stewart is to you?” Roald’s eyes held her gaze, then. “A friend?”

“Same as you, I imagine,” she replied cautiously. “At the farm, we learn to put up with the quirks of other…”

“I’m just talking about Stewart,” Roald cut her off gently. “Not the rest of us.”

Katy’s gaze faltered, before she could focus. “Come outside, where it’s quieter.”

Once out by the dumpsters beside the kitchen exit, Katy turned to the skid. “…Roald, look. Stewart knows we’ve been through this. It just didn’t work out between us.”

“Because he’s…the mental problems,” Roald’s eyes had taken on a moist sheen, and Katy wanted to bolt. “I swear I never knew this would happen. The fucking drugs…Katy, I never knew this would happen…then Devon left, and...and that motherfucker stepfather of his. He scares the shit out of me, but I could kill him for making Stewart like this...”

“Fuck…” Katy whispered, before raising her voice. “You’re in love with him.”

“I…I,” Roald barely managed, before his voice broke, tears brimming his eyes as he glanced anywhere but at her face.

“Roald, did he hurt you?” Katy asked, relieved to at least not see any bruises on Roald’s visible shoulders. Not that Stewart seemed the type to actually give someone a beating but given his dynamic with Roald, it was anyone’s guess…

“We…we,” Roald tried again, and she wondered if they were about to have a repeat of his telephone call. “He s-seemed normal through most of it.”

Damn. 

“Something happened between the two of you,” Katy stated. 

“I d-don’t know,” Roald sobbed, and Katy was happy no cooks had come out to the dumpsters yet, “I th-think it was okay, but it was my first…I don’t even kn-know if he was seeing me or…if that was even him…we've been sober for weeks, and he's even been through _rehab_ and still hasn't gotten any better with the switching he does. It's just too much to keep up with....”

Roald’s words faded then, as his hands rose to his face.

For whatever reason – likely because she was panicking – Katy drew Roald into her arms.

“The n-next day, he was so… _cold_.”

"How do you handle that shit?" Katy asked, harsher than intended.

"That's easy for you to say!" Roald snapped between sniffles, though didn't draw away. "You have your brother and every man you could ever want there to support you. My own parents can't even look me in the face."

“S’okay now,” she murmured, turning her face from getting a face full of dark curls. “You gotta be quiet though, folks’ll come checking.”

Drawing a rattling breath, Roald fell silent, sobs subsiding. Much to her relief.

She held him for a while, at some point registering subtle things happening around them, as she waited for his quakes to ebb. A moth fluttering by the overhang lamp. A cook coming out to the dumpster and surprisingly not even glancing at them. At some point, Roald’s arms encircled her torso, and she thought the two of them must look ridiculous just standing there by the garbage bins.

A beep sounded from inside the bra beneath her dress. That’d likely be Wayne checking on her.

Instead of jump or leap away at the noise as she would have expected, Roald’s grip around her tightened, if only a subtle amount. 

Katy sighed. As much as she wanted to blame the claustrophobia of their small hometown, seeing those drugged out club goers here in the city didn’t exactly offer much hope for urban life either. Humans and their pick-me-ups. Humans and what they did to each other...

Her thoughts trailed off to a warm sensation just below her right ear. Confused at first by the bizarre tingling, she stilled as soon as Roald’s hands started wandering over her back.

Shit, was he actually _nuzzling_ her?

“Whoa, whoa,” Katy said as softly as possible, carefully extracting herself from their embrace. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry. Jesus…” Roald took a step back. “I don’t know…you just _get_ it.”

“You mean I get Stewart…and all his chaos,” Katy finished for him. “But you’re not into…”

“Yep, still gay,” now it was Roald who interjected. “That hasn’t changed. It just felt like the right thing…shit. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Katy said, grasping his wrist to pull him back inside. “We’ll figure this out. But look. You’re gonna have to talk to Stewart. He has to get help.”

“He’ll never agree to that,” Roald replied.

“Doesn’t much matter what he agrees to,” Katy said, as they reached the club’s backdoor entrance where the music pounded. “He trusts you more than anyone. Take your time with it. If you need help, you call me. You hear?”

Pursing his lips, Roald followed her into the club.


	11. Chapter 11

The hail that began to fall as they drove back from the city mirrored Stewart’s melancholy. 

Despite the relative warmth of mid-Spring, he shivered in the chilly car interior, flipping on the windshield wipers. 

Roald spoke from the passenger’s seat. “You cold, too?”

Stewart kept his eyes on the road, not bothering to reply. Tearing himself away from the city, from Gae…the excitement of _change_ …had likely been the hardest thing he’d ever done. But then, he couldn’t exactly resist the urging of the entire hick brigade. As much as he was loath to admit they had very probably saved his life.

Beside him, Roald sighed. Stewart had to clench the steering wheel to keep from snapping, before his friend’s voice joined the squeak of the wipers.

“It’s not so bad, you know. Letterkenny.”

“Roald…” Stewart breathed out, before focusing on the steady pitter-patter of hail on the car roof to rein in his frayed nerves. “Have you ever actually had any life ambition?”

At that question, Stewart could practically feel the indignation roiling off Roald. “As a matter of fact, _Stewart_ , yes. Figure skating. I’ve only mentioned it like eight times over the years.”

“Then, why did you never pursue…”

“Devon knew,” Roald cut him off, and Stewart bristled.

“Don’t interrupt me,” he seethed. “And don’t mention Devon.”

Several long minutes passed, before Roald spoke up once more. “I never went for it because…figure skating is one of the most competitive sports out there. And if you fail, you lose a ton of travel expenses. And I don’t have a family to fall back on.”

Stewart shook his head, turning to momentarily glance at Roald. “So, you actually also wanted…”

This time, when Roald interrupted Stewart, it was to shout. “Look out!”

Chest clenching in shock, Stewart instinctively slammed his foot on the brake pedal before even looking back at the dark road before them.

The resounding thump to the front grill wasn’t lost on them. By some miracle, the car stopped spinning after only three revolutions, before skidding to a halt at the shoulder of the road.

Drawing quick breaths that he struggled to slow, as his eyes took in Roald panting beside him, Stewart gazed blearily out his left window. _God_ , was he getting sick of almost hitting things with this car.

“You okay?” Roald asked, voice still trembling. 

Stewart nodded, swallowing hard. “You?”

Roald drew another breath. “Uh huh. What was that? It was too small for a moose.”

“Not a moose,” Stewart stated, before realizing the hail had stopped.

Squinting to see anything in the inky black, he opened the driver’s side door once Roald piped up again. 

“We should have just carpooled with the shirt tuckers.”

“We can handle ourselves,” Stewart threw back, exiting the car.

Exhaling a visible stream of air, Stewart stilled at the sight of a dark shape that moved closer to the middle of the road. Silhouetted against the dim illumination from the car headlights, the suddenly obvious form of an injured animal.

For some reason, Katy’s words about wanting to be a veterinarian rang in the back of his mind.

“What…” Roald’s voice came again, as Stewart motioned for him to stay back. “Is that a dog?”

Stewart opened his mouth to confirm, before a shrill croak erupted from the creature. 

_Lynx_.

“Oh my God, it’s a lynx!” Roald echoed his thoughts. “I’ve never seen one up close.”

“It’s not on us,” Stewart interjected. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Strrrt, it’s hurt,” Roald insisted, taking two steps past his friend and pulling out his own phone. “We should at least call…”

“I said _leave it_ , Roald,” Stewart barked. “It was an accident.”

Stewart had to admit the way Roald’s gaze steeled over chilled him.

“Why?” Roald still stood halfway facing the wounded animal. “So you can run from yet another situation? When are you going to quit running, Stewart?”

The urge to strike Roald across the face had never been so strong. Still, he refused to be like Jay. Words would suffice.

“Clearly, you haven’t learned that fucking does not equate to marriage, and certainly doesn’t imply…”

“You were willing to throw away all of your savings and risk our lives for a figment of your imagination!”

Roald’s words hung in the air like raindrops turned to hail before hitting the ground.

“What?” Stewart realized his own voice had dropped.

“ _Gae_ is not _real_!” Roald’s eyes glistened, and he stood his ground even as Stewart advanced on him.

Stewart saw red, barely even cognizant of the creature that limped closer to him and Roald, emitting a low mewling.

“Think about it!” Road just wouldn’t quit. “FAKU. Freaks Acting Krazy United. That was Devon’s idea! He had it tattooed on his fingers. Your mother’s boyfriend is a monster, and he has no right to torment you. He never has!”

Stewart’s right hand balled into a fist, fingernails biting into his palm. 

“I’ll always be here for you, Strrt. It’ll stay between us. Jay, Gae...you and me. All of it. But you’ve got to wake _up_.”

No. Way. In. Hell. He couldn't go back there. He couldn't. That was final. “I’m never going back!”

Swinging back his fist to deal the first blow, Stewart’s line of vision to Roald’s face fell away as the feline attacked his shoulder.

Reeling from the sting of sharp claws, Stewart spun around, trying desperately to throw the creature off. 

A moment too late, he realized he shouldn’t have turned his back to Roald. The blow that struck the back of his skull didn’t come from the lynx.


	12. Chapter 12

As soon as Katy’s eyes met Roald’s moist gaze, she bit her lip.

Once she’d approached the clinic desk to check in, she steadied herself to greet the skid who hadn’t moved from the waiting area seat closest to the door to the hospital interior.

“I got here as soon as I could. Wayne even offered to come.”

“Glad he didn’t. Just you is good,” Roald said, shift gaze slowly settling on her.

“Stewart back there?” she asked, taking a seat beside him, eyeing the cut above his left brow. 

He nodded.

“You okay?” she followed up. “Nasty accident, eh. You guys hit an animal?”

“A lynx,” Roald muttered, “I didn’t know who to call.”

“Animal control,” Katy reasoned, pulling out her phone to ring the nearest center.

Once she’d phoned in the location with Roald’s assistance, she hung up and turned back to him.

“The crash knock him out?”

He nodded again, gaze faltering on his lap. “I mean…no.”

Katy just raised her eyebrows.

“He was coming at me…and the cat. The cat attacked him when he started yelling, and I freaked and smacked him in the back of the head.”

Katy had to clear her throat to stifle a snort of laughter. “Wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.”

“It’s like you said, he needs help,” Roald replied, “and he wouldn’t have gone on his own. And I did feel threatened, but…I was also just fed up. I couldn’t let it go on any further.”

“Maybe you two could do with some time apart,” Katy suggested. “Valentimes is comin’ up.”

“What’ll they do with him?”

“You told them he was seeing things?”

Roald nodded.

“Once they see what you mean, they might give him some meds to help with the delusions. I really think it’s just the drugs…on top of maybe some other stuff. But drugs has a real shitty effect on some people. If you use it for long enough.”

“Guess the rest of us got lucky,” Roald mused.

“So what’re you gonna do?” Katy ventured. “Once he gets out of here?”

“I mean…I am his, I…” he seemed to want to re-word hastily. “I’ll never stop caring.”

This time, it was Katy’s turn to nod and sigh. “I hear you.”

“Let’s watch out for him together?” Roald looked like he wanted to quirk a smile but hadn’t the energy.

“Do our own thing in the meantime,” Katy agreed. “No one should ever keep you from living your life…”

Her sentence cut off to a buzz from her mobile phone.

“Yeah?” she picked up.

Roald’s eyes roamed her face, as she took in the bizarre information.

“That was animal control,” she said, hanging up the phone. “The place you crashed - they said they searched that whole area. No sign of a lynx.”


End file.
